If These Walls Could Talk
Make Contentment Cool Again
Several years ago, I entertained the possibility of a career change. An opportunity became available for something I always said I wanted, but no matter how hard I tried, I just didn’t have peace about making the change. I remember talking to my parents about struggling with the decision, weighing the pros and cons, and Daddy asking me if I was unhappy with my current career. My response was no; I was actually very happy where I was and I enjoyed going to work every day. His next statement, as usual, was exactly what I needed to hear: “There is nothing wrong with being content.” I didn’t want or need a career change. Instead, I was trying to create something new and unnecessary for myself that God didn’t have planned for me. Why was I trying to stir up some change where nothing needed changing?
Dictionary.com defines contentment as “satisfaction. Ease of mind.” Contentment is comfortable. It is happy and easy, not complicated, and, in my opinion, incredibly underrated in our world today. Since that conversation with my parents, I have tried to be intentional about regularly taking inventory on who Liz Flippo is. Are the words I’m saying and the actions I’m choosing authentic? Or am I trying to fit an image or belong to a crowd I have no business belonging to? We were invited to a cocktail party over the Christmas holiday, and I stressed over what to wear for weeks. I roll my eyes thinking how much of my time was spent searching online boutiques and social media influencers to get ideas for the perfect outfit until I gave myself the most freeing, figurative slap in the face; no one cares what I wear. Who do I think I am to place so much value on what I would wear as a guest to a party our good friends are hosting? It wasn’t about me. As a girlfriend of mine would say, “do less, Liz.”
I love being able to volunteer at my children’s schools. Getting to know the people who see my children every day is important to me, and I’ll volunteer as long as my kids let me. If their class needs a room mom, sign me up. Teachers give and do more than enough as it is, so if I can help lighten their load, I am happy to do it. But you need to know I am not a Pinterest room mom. I cannot do balloon arches. I have never even made a scrapbook. I don’t wrap applesauce pouches to look like mummies at Halloween or make a batch of reindeer food to put in personalized glass jars wrapped with a cute poem on the magic of how this helps the reindeer find your house on Christmas Eve. If you are the parent with mummy applesauces and reindeer food whose love languages include making those precious things, thank you. Please keep being you. My children think you are the coolest, and as much as I would love to be like you, I’m just not.
One year, the night before a class party, I realized I forgot about party favors for their class. So I opened the cabinets, found the new box of variety chips I got from the store, and wrote on them with a sharpie. “Merry Christmas. Here is a bag of chili cheese Fritos.” I waited too long to order The Brothers’ birthday cakes this year, and as luck would have it, this is the year they first requested specific cakes. So I grabbed two cakes with white icing from the grocery store bakery, scraped off all the icing, added food coloring, re-iced them and plopped Spiderman figures on one and Mario figures on the other. They were the ugliest cakes, but the Brothers were happy, so I consider it a win.
As a parent, I am reminded of the responsibility I have in modeling what is important. I noticed certain Kids’ YouTube channels were fooling my daughter into thinking their videos were real life. I would find videos she took of herself on my phone, ending with phrases like “give us a thumbs up” or “like and subscribe.” Her request for her own YouTube channel was quickly declined, because Lord knows the things happening in our home do not need to be filmed. We had a good conversation about what is real versus what is entertainment. I want her not to need the approval of others to feel confident in herself. The number of subscribers or thumbs up doesn’t determine who she is. Regular ol’ kind and happy people are cool too.
Two of my favorite friends encouraged me to read “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry” by John Mark Comer. Comer writes about how our overbusy, digitally distracted life of speed could be, and likely is, a great threat to our spiritual life and relationships. He simply encourages the reader to slow down. “Very little can be done with hurry that can’t be done better without it,” he says. I have highlighted and underlined and made notes on almost every page, but to be completely honest, I haven’t made the time to finish reading it. The fact that I have been too busy to finish reading about how my relationship with God and others can be better by eliminating busy is not lost on me. I suppose this very column is encouraging me to take another inventory check. What have I been spending time on that seems so important? What things are my children watching me value? In 1 Thessalonians, Paul encourages us to lead a quiet life. I want that. I want to be satisfied with my mind at ease, and I want that for you, too. Let’s make contentment cool again.
